Legolas' Life
by Amanita Jackson
Summary: Young Prince Legolas' biography. AU. Has narratorcharacter interaction, insane amounts of sugar, and Legolas. What more do you want? R
1. Chapter the First

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns everything but the fangirls. And the babysitter. But he owns everything else. The fangirls and the babysitter are MINE! heh heh heh... oh, never mind. This is posted at under my account there, but I'm posting it here too. (Just so no one thinks I copied...)

King Thranduil looked down into the cradle of his newborn son with a look of disgust on his face.  
"WHAT in the name of ERU ABOVE is that SMELL!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "This boy smells WORSE than a MOUND of ORC SHIT in the SUMMER!"

Thranduil was not a morning person. Neither was he an afternoon, evening, nighttime, daytime, in-between-time, breakfast time, lunch time, dinner time, supper time, dessert time, snack time, tea time, high tea time, low tea time, or even elevensies time person these days. He had been perpetually cranky since Legolas, his only son and heir, was born eighteen months before.

For those of you who don't know or care how many years that is, that's a year and a half.

Anyways,since Legolas' mother had died shortly after childbirth, the task of catering to every one of the child's capricious whims (except, obviously, for the early-on feeding) fell squarely upon Thranduil's shoulders. See, the palace was being renovated (termites...), they had to temporarily lay off some of the staff, including the nannies. Legolas' sisters were no help, because they were both off for fostering on the care of Lord Elrond. So, the short-and-short of this is, there was no one but Thranduil who had enough time to look after the boy. He had not gotten a wink of sleep since. Neither had Thranduil.

Sighing, the High King of Mirkwood changed his squirming princeling's diapers. He carried the dirty one out to a distant shed, holding the diaper in two fingers and the other hand clamping his nose shut.

Once inside the shed, he went to the pile labled BIOLOGICAL WARFARE WEAPONS; FOR USE IN CATAPULTS. That done, he turned to go, pausing at the door to carefully relock the seventten padlocks and adjusting the sign, which someone had turned around. It read Weapons shed; the stuff in here is DEADLY so keep out all elf children and ESPECIALLY YOU, ELLADAN AND ELROHIR! These weapons are to be used only in the Mirkwood campaigns against the evils dwelling on Mirkwood, NOT for throwing at Thranduil or Elrond!

"Damn fangirls, can't leave us well enough alone! Why these stupid authors have to keep dumping them HERE, I'll never know..." muttered Thranduil. His grumblings carried him all the way to the house.

Upon his return, he discovered that Legolas had, once again, gotten into the severely depleted sugar supply. The elfling was racing around one of the upper levels of the palace. Thranduil sent for help.

Ten minutes later, the heavily armed squadron of guards found Legolas on the fourth story balcony/rampart. They gave chase.

An hour and a half later, the sugar started to wear off, so Legolas thought it would be fun to see how far he could jump. Off the parapet. With this height, he could probably clear those guards running frantically to the safety of the castle!

The guards that had not yet collapsed from exaustion screamed and fainted.

Laughing, the adorable little elf hopped off the bush he had landed on and headed staright towards the mob of marauders approaching the castle. Stopping just in front of the gathering of demons, he stared up at them, with his wide blue eyes blinking innocently and his golden hair slightly tousled. Legolas knew that trick always worked on his father.

"Will you play with me?" he asked the first of the deadly throng, his lower lip trembling evr so slightly.

"Of COURSE we will, you sweet little thing!" gushed the devil he was talking to. Smiling malevolently, it reached down and picked the poor princeling up in its hideous, pink, claw-like hands.

The fangirls had come.

And they had Legolas in their wicked clutches.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	2. Things Get Worse

Yes, what you've all been waiting for: CHAPTER 2! listens for clapping. There is silence. No one cares. Neither do I I go on talking

Yes, yes, yes. I own nothing but the babysitter and the fangirls. Blah blah blah. ON WITH THE…um…thing. You know. The biography story thingie. Yes I'll shut up, have a little patience! You people have no feeling for dramatic tension! gets picked up, shaken, slapped across the face, and put down again by huge Uruk-Hai

Uruk: What! I wanted to hear the story!

Me: shaking head a little dazedly Thanks…I needed that…clears throat and continues telling story

They had been running for HOURS now. Legolas was getting tired of being carried; he wanted to run too. He pulled the hair of the fangirl carrying him and screeched in her ear, "I WANNA RUN TOO! LET ME RUN! NO CARRY! I A BIG BOY! I CAN RUN! LET ME RUN! I WANNA RUN!"

After the fangirls gave him a snack, took him to go potty, gave him another snack, got him a drink of water, took him to go potty again, lectured him on why it's not nice to pop people's eardrums, waited through his temper tantrum, and gave him another snack, they let him run alongside them for a little while.

A VERY little while. Five minutes later, Legolas was screaming, bawling, and punching the ground because he was too tired to keep running, why were they making him run? They were the meanest babysitters ever! He was going to tell Daddy when they got back! He was going to tell on all of them, then they'd see! "Um, what will we see?" asked one of the fangirls tentatively. That started him up again.

Legolas glanced up through his tears to see if they were paying any attention to him, and he saw a new and interesting sight. The rest of the one hundred and twenty-seven fangirls were duffing up the one who had interrupted his tantrum. He laughed in delight. That was funny! And the silly lady who was getting hit was talking just like Daddy did when Elry and Ellyden threw those white, stinky blobs at him!

A few minutes later, the fangirls heard the sound of hysterical laughter. All heads turned to the princeling. As soon as he noticed they'd stopped hitting Jocelyn, he started sobbing and beating the earth with his little fists again. Jonna smiled.

"Look, Legolas," she said, and she smacked Jocelyn on the side of the head. Legolas stopped howling and smiled.

"Here, let me try!" SMACK Legolas giggled.

The rest of the (somewhat dim-witted) fangirls finally caught on and continued hitting Jocelyn. Legolas laughed until he was red in the face and tears were streaming down his face. They stopped, and decided it was time for him to have a little rest. Since Jocelyn hadn't helped at all with the above-mentioned tasks, and , really, no one liked her THAT much anyway, they decided that she was to put young Legolas down for his nap.

Two hours later, after much sobbing, screaming, tantrums, threats, more screaming, punching, kicking biting (and that was just Jocelyn's reaction to being chosen), Legolas was finally asleep.

Yes, elf children take naps and have to sleep at night. This period of needing sleep as much as mortals do wears off at about age ten or eleven. Until then, elven kids need as much (if not more) sleep than mortal children do at the same age.

As it was getting late in the afternoon, the fangirls decided to camp there for the night. They built a fire, and laid their villainous plans. Olivia went first.

"Okay, I say we send a letter back to Mirkwood, and say we have Leggy, and if they-"

" 'LEGGY'!" asked Licia in disbelief.

"Yes, 'Leggy'. He likes that pet name! Anyway, we send a letter demanding three doz-"

" 'LEGGY'! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" burst in Emily.

"SHUT UP! So, we ask for three dozen elven guys in exchange for Leg-"

"In exchange for LEGGY! HAHAHAHAHA!"

"I SAID SHUT UP, EMILY! So we say that unless we get the thirty-six elves, Thranduil doesn't get-"

"LEGGY!"

The rest of the pack decided to help Olivia out a little bit. "SHUT UP!"

Emily spent the rest of that evening bound and gagged, leaning against a tree. They also took away all of her caffeine stores, including her chocolate. After all, it has caffeine in it-that, and Olivia wanted to eat it. Emily watched in horror as her precious chocolate bar was eaten, but she got over it. 'Heh, heh. Leggy! Heh. Almost time to put my plan in motion!"

Will the fangirl's evil plan succeed? What is Emily's plan? Will Legolas ever calm down? Who really cares? If you do, REVIEW or I will leave you all hanging on this very suspenseful cliffhanger!  
TO BE CONTINUED!

My apologies to anyone whose name is Jocelyn, but I know someone named Jocelyn, and she is an evil jock. She is really mean and I can't hit her myself, so I had my trusty (HAHAHA) fangirl army do it for me.


	3. The Plot Twists

Chapter 3 is up! YAY!  
I know you've ALL been waiting a very long time so here it is. Without further gilding the lily and with no more ado…I give you the one, the only, SIR UUUUUULRICH VON LICHTENSTIEN! Oh dear, I think he escaped! holds up frayed ropes oh well! I'll just finish the chapter instead… .

As punishment, the fangirls tied Legolas up next to Emily and made her watch him while they delivered the letter. Once they were out of sight, Emily pulled out a knife and hacked away at the ropes that bound her and the adorable little elf.

Nothing happened.

She took out her handy-dandy Mirkwood Army Dagger (only 3.4 stones of mithril, get it at your nearest Elven product supplier!) and continued sawing at the ropes.

Three hundred and twelve attachments later, Emily was starting to get worried. Legolas' nappy was getting RATHER bulgy below the ropes keeping him pinned to the tree…

Meanwhile, in the depths of Mirkwood, a furious Thranduil was trying to get a force together to get back his precious son. The only problems were, not one male was willing to go after such a huge pack of fangirls, and none of the females wanted him near the castle for at least a thousand years or so (he kept using up all their Strawberry-Scented Shampoo, copyright Second Age by Balrog Industries).

"King Thranduil pant I pant have something pant for you," gasped an elleth. She had come to Thranduil's office with a letter from the fangirls. "I come bearing pant a letter from pant the fangirls!"

"I KNOW that, it was in the narrative!" Thranduil snapped. Taking the letter, he ripped it open to find his worst fears confirmed…

It was the bill from Balrog Industries for all the Strawberry-Scented Shampoo. It was so big, he actually hear a drum roll when it opened!

The audience booed the narrator.

Narrator: hopefully But…but…wasn't it just a little bit funny?

Audience: NO! STOP MAKING STUPID COMMENTS AND GET ON WITH THE BLOODY STORY!

Narrator: examining her fingernails casually Maybe I will, maybe I won't.

Audience: all pull out handy-dandy Mirkwood Army Daggers, and switch through the attachments, trying to find the torches and pitchforks

Narrator: HEY! PRODUCT PLACEMENT!

Audience: SHUT UP! all go back to flipping through attachments

Narrator, who is crazyelvenfangirl, for those of you too thick to realize this without being told: Back to the story, whilst these good people are trying to find the "Angry Mob" attachments on their handy-dandy Mirkwood Army Daggers…

"AHA! FREEDOM!" cried Emily, who discovered that the six-hundred-fifty-eighth attachment, the "Angry Mob", complete with flame and big fork thing, is perfect for getting those pesky ropes binding you undone in half an hour or more, or your money back!

Audience: stop flipping momentarily PRODUCT PLACEMENT! all go back to flipping

Emily was free, and so was Legolas. Legolas made a mad dash for the shiny pointy things lying by the remains of the campfire, but was unable to move. His nappy was HUGE. It was so big, when it went to the movies, it sat next to EVERYONE! It was so big, Weight Watchers won't look at it. It was so big, when it plays hopscotch, it goes England, Scotland, Ireland. It was so big, it went into the Gap of Rohan and filled it. It was so big that when it was a kid, it didn't play with dolls-it played with midgets. It was so big, when it-

Audience stop flipping momentarily ENOUGH WITH THE WARPED 'YO MAMA' JOKES! all resume flipping

Fine, be that way.

Emily changed Legolas' diaper. When the fumes cleared and she woke up, she set out with the young prince. First, though, so she wouldn't be recognized or mistaken for a REAL fangirl, she took off her cleverly made mask and full body "rabid fangirl" suit. Yes, 'she' was in fact a…DWARF! Valar, do I think of good plot twists or WHAT?

Audience: stop fiddling with handy-dandy Mirkwood Army Daggers GASP! A dwarf? How could this be? continue flippi- they finally found it. DAMN! MUA HA HA HA! WE SHALL GET YOU, STUPID NARRATOR!

This story has been postponed until the audience gets fed up and allows me to come down from this lovely ceiling decoration


	4. Monty Python Ripoff

**(climbing down from ceiling decoration) I give you my gratitude dear readers. Thanks. Valar, all I asked was that people bloody review, and I get like one. (but those who did review, go you! And thank you very much, Seri!) I mean, is it REALLY too much to ask that some-**

(gets mouth duct-taped by some huge Uruk-hai and his armed posse)

New, improved audience: (glare)

Uruks: Hey, WE were the ones that got her down! (glare back)

Audience: Oh yeah? (glare more)

Uruks: You wanna START somethin?

Audience: Hell yeah, you ugly orcs!

Uruks: Oh, it's ON!

(sounds of horrible fighting ensue, punctured by shouts of "OW" and "WE ARE NOT ORCS!" and "COME AND SEE THE VIOLENCE INHERITING THE SYSTEM!")

**Dennis, time to go in the box now.**

Dennis: No. I refuse. It's my little way of stickin' it to the man!

**But I'm...female... At least put on you jacket Dennis, it's very cold. (holds out straitjacket)**

Dennis: No, it's not cold.

**Respect mah effing authority, you brat, or you won't get any more lines.**

Audience 3.0: TELL THE STORY!

**Fine. And so, without further ado, I give you the next chapter and the management's further efforts to recapture Sir Ulrich…**

(shouts of 'OI Get back here, you bastard!' are heard in the near distance)

So, Thranduil opened the second letter with great trepidation. It was indeed a letter from the fangirls. Thranduil struggled to keep his face calm.

Three hours later, the elleth politely inquired as to what the letter said. Thranduil held it out to her.

"I do not wish to pollute my mind with these foul words. You read it. Out loud, if you please…"

"Yes, of course milord. It says, 'De-…de-ahr…dee-uhr…DEAR! Dear Thra-…Thran-duh-ih-uhl…THRANDUIL, THRANDUIL! Dear Thranduil, Ih-…eeh-… IN, IN! In ex-…ehx-chah-…'" Sighing, Thranduil's secretary came over, snatched the letter, and continued where the messenger had left off.

"'…ehx-chae-…excha-…EXCHANGE, EXCHANGE!' Yes, right, 'Dear Thranduil, In exchange fo-…fo-…FOR, FOR! Yo-…yoh-uhr…'"

" 'YOUR!'" said Thranduil.

" 'YOUR!'" agreed the elleth.

"Yes, we get it, what does the rest say?"

" 'So-…soh-…suh-…SON, SON! Weh-…wih-…WE!'"

" 'WE, WE!'" agreed the rest.

" 'Reh-…re-…rih-…qui-..quae-…queh-…her-…ehr-…er…REQUIRE, REQUIRE!'" A random elf who happened to be passing by stuck his head into the room. Seeing what was happening, he sauntered over and grabbed the letter. With an arrogant glance at the rest, he started to read.

" 'Th-…thr-…threh-…THREE, THREE! Doh-…duh-…zehn-…DOZEN! Eh-…Eh-…'"

"ELVES!"

"ELVES!"

"YES, ELVES!"

I realize this takes a long time, so we'll just fast forward to sentence number four (and elf number seventeen). To recap, the letter says, 'Dear Thranduil, In exchange for your son, we require three dozen elves. They should be dropped off two leagues south of the palace. They should be alone and unarmed. Come back in one day, and you shall have your son back.'

" 'Sih-…sihn-…sihn-ser-…sihn-seer-…-saer-…SINCERELY, SINCERELY! Th-…thuh-…THE! Fan-…g-…FANGIRLS.' YAY! WE DID IT!" The seventeen elves and Thranduil, who had just come back from the kitchen and his extended snack break, partied in honor of their cleverness.

"'Scuse me, milord Thranduil, but what does it mean?" said the random elf.

While they were reviving the males at the castle, Emily and Legolas were making their way to Khazad-dum with an escort of dwarves. The rest of the fangirls, meanwhile, had come back to camp and discovered the loss of their charge and his babysitter. They got over it surprisingly quickly, and went to wait at the specified drop point mentioned by the letter. After all, they didn't actually need Legolas to get the elves.

Not one escort dwarf was ever the same again.

Audience 3.0: That's mean!

They just had severely diminished hearing and an aversion to elves.

Audience 3.0: Oh, ok.

Yes, this was kinda short. Sorry. Trying to update my stories. And yes, Dennis is from the HOLY GRAIL movie and yes, the reading scene was based on a Monty Python episode. I own nothing but the circumstances and me. Well, definitely the circumstances. Probably. Meh. There's only so much I could have done with this chapter, bt I did try to clean it up...


	5. Of Dwarves and Makeup

**Once again, we return to the exciting story of the life of our gorgeous prince Legolas. **

**Any questions? No? Good. Our story picks up as Thranduil reluctantly picks out elven males for the sacr-**

Audience member #64: Wait! Wait! Hang on! I have a que- right, you bugger! My name's Edward! I am a person! I AM NOT A NUMBER! I have a sodding identity!

**You have a bit of a dirty mouth.**

#64: I am an individual with individual needs and talents!

Rest of the audience: Just like us! YAY!

#64: I _told_ you, I am not a number! Edward! I am Edward!

**Well, I didn't know you were called Edward.**

Edward: Well, you didn't bother to find out, now, did you?

**Well, I _am_ the narrator…**

Edward: Oh, yes, very nice. And how'd you become narrator, then, eh? By exploiting the characters! By hanging on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates in our fantasy realm!

**Well, no, I'm the narrator because I am the one writing the story.**

Edward: If there's ever going to be any difference around here, - . . .

**. . . If there's ever going to be any difference around here-? What?**

Edward: I forget.

**Okay. Fine. Lovely. Anyone else?**

(sulky silence)

Good. So, anyway, Thranduil reluctantly picked out elven males for the sacrifice to the fangirls.

"You; not you; not you; not you; you; you; you, no, not you, YOU!; you; not you; you; you; not you; not you; you; you; you; and the thirty guys down there."

An elven underling whispered something to the Great Lord.

"YES, of course I can count that high!_Why_, praytell, would I not be able to count that high? I CAN count, damnit."

The elven underling whispered again.

"No, I wasn't being overly defensive, I-What! OH, you said that _GUY_ not that _HIGH_. My bad. Why wouldn't we count that guy?"

"The other one, milord."

"Where? Next to him?"

"No, the one with the red hair. He's a human, milord."

"Where? I can't see him, Hilthain!"

Another elven underling came up and handed Thranduil's glasses to him. The glasses were wet and had a few bubbles around the frames, and Thranduil thought he could see some cat hair.

"I found these in the possession of Young Lords Elladan and Elrohir, milord," said the underling, bowing respectfully.

Thranduil decided to forgo the glasses and just take Hilthain's word for it.

**_meanwhile_**

After several hours of screaming, two blankets, a couple of snacks, kicking, punching, wailing, and giggling in an ominous way (and that was just the dwarves getting Legolas off the extra-swift barge onto the horse), young Legolas was at the gates of the great Khazad-dum. Known as Moria to those Elves out there, or Dwarrowdelf, if you prefer the Common name. Legolas was delighted! Here was a bunch of people just his size to play with! But they all had beards! This perplexed the young elfling. As you know, he had grown up with Elves, and therefore hadn't seen a real beard before.

He'd seen humans, yes, but young ones, who came to play. They'd had a great time playing dress-up with him. They all had their little toy bows, axes, swords, and arrow-darts, and some had fake beards and helmet-wigs on. It had been great fun to hear the squelching sound the hair made when pulled off a young elven or human face.

These funny people had axes, just like his friend Draulith had when he played dress-up! Maybe their beards would make a funny sound too…

Twenty minutes later, Legolas was having the time of his life! THESE beards made a MUCH funnier sound when you pulled them off! Those people that had brought him here were gone, and they were crying. Legolas knew they were crying tears of happiness. They had laughed so hard when he had pulled off the first beard! But the guy he pulled it off of wasn't laughing.

That made him stop for a minute. Legolas wasn't a bad kid, and he wasn't so naïve that he didn't know sadness. His aunt had died of it just after his mother was buried. Legolas knew sadness could kill elves-what if it could kill these funny people too?

Legolas sat down and wailed. After a minute or two of cautious observation, the dwarves came rushing out to him, wisely putting the ones without beards first. Legolas peeked up through his tears, wondering what could be taking them so long. EVERYONE came when he started screeching. What was different this time? Oh, he got it, the funny people were so fat they couldn't go very fast! Legolas felt better. As the dwarves inched closer, Legolas was shocked to see that they weren't pretty! They…they were…ugly! Especially the ones without beards.

Legolas was horrified. It all made sense. These people wanted to trade him for make up and hair care products (he had heard them talking about trading him back for SOMEthing, so he figured this must be it) because they were so icky! _That's_ why they had beards-to cover their icky faces! Legolas felt terrible-they couldn't hide their faces because of _him_! There was only one thing he could do.

"I sorry I rip you beards off, silly icky men. Please don't be sad-I fix it!" After completing his apology, Legolas reached into his diaper bag, thoughtfully brought along by Emily, and grabbed his make up bag. Every little elf needs one, get them for a Solstice gift for your favori-sorry. Anyway, the short and short is, he gave every dwarf in the place a great makeover. Hey, he was a special kid. And I mean special as in precocious. Even the female dwarves who were upset at being called "silly icky men" were placated by the fabulous improvement in their looks.

So they decided to keep him.

**Well, that was fun, wasn't it kiddies?**

Audience: Um, no. That sucked.

Edward: Thank you. I REMEMBER WHAT I WAS GOING TO ASK!

**What?**

Edward: I wanted to know where the bathroom was.

**. . . er…it's down the hall, right next to the stairs…**

Dennis: And can you turn up the heat in here? (twitch) I had to go in my box, I'm so cold! (twitch) I don't like my box…(twitch)

**Good boy, Dennis! Listen, if you keep your jacket on you can come out of the box. Okay? (gets arm out from under three huge down comforters and turns the thermostat back up) Anyone else?**

(bored silence)

**Really? Fine. I'm adding another chapter to spite you. Ha. I win.**


	6. Sendoffs and Surprises

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even the Shield of Ubiquity. It's from a game called Munchkin.

A/N : Woah. I'm really, really sorry I haven't updated in a while. I've been busy and totally swamped with so much stuff…but I'm back!

But I digress. On with our story.

Thranduil stood on the shampoo box and addressed the sacrificial elf men.

"Barbossa, and his crew of miscreants, sail for the dreaded Isle de Muerta. It is an island that cannot be found, except by those-" the great elf-king stopped, brow furrowed, and peered nearsightedly at his pretty purple note cards. They appeared to have pick-up lines of varying quality on them. He shoved them deep into his pocket for later examination and continued on, somewhat less fluently.

"I…er…you people, elves, that is…well, see, the fangirls, and prince Legolas, and demands and things," here, the great King waved his hand in a vague manner. "They sent his note, see, and stuff, and…er…well, after some trouble, we read it, but then we got distracted by the Scary Monkey Show, because the Scary Monkey Show was coming on in just an hour an a half and it was going to be a new episode, and then we got you people. Men. Elves. See, then LOST came on, and so we had to go watch that so this meeting got delayed, and then it was a repeat from the first season-again-and I just got so annoyed with the producers. I mean, we've all seen the first season of LOST! It's out on DVD, for Eru's sake. Why should we have to wait another week to get a new episode of the second season! I mean, seriously, I'm asking you, why-"

"My lord…?" Thranduil shook himself and proceeded with his speech.

"I…that is, we, the royal family, had a long debate and…I think we have decided that we want Prince Legolas back."

There was much groaning. Thranduil glared. The groaning stopped. Thranduil's Chief Advisor-Type Person decided to take over the situation.

"Elves, this is for the well-being of the heir to Mirkwood's throne, Eru forbid something happen to King Thranduil. So quit whining like a pack of stinking humans, get your Anti-Fangirl Survival Kits and Backup Shield of Ubiquity. Then head out to the dropoff point an kick some foul fangirl backside!"

A frightened cheer went up from the assembled elves.

"…and we'll have archers in the trees for backup, completely surrounding your position should anything go wrong."

A louder, heartier cheer went up.

"…you can all go now…" And with that, the brave elves departed.

Meanwhile, the fangirls were waiting at the drop point. But that's for the next chappie. We are now going to see Legolas and the dwarves.

The dwarves were riding in a caravan towards Imladris. The six most important dwarves clustered around their leader, Tim.

"So, here's the plan. We are going to take the elf brat and-"

"Force him to catch squirrels for our dinner? We can roast them over a fire and then simmer them in teriyaki sauce." put in Balian.

The other dwarves just looked at him. Balian looked awkward.

"I like squirrel…" Tim shook his head.

"No, no squirrels. Right, as I was saying. What we do, is we take the brat to Imladris-"

"But decide to keep him at the last moment? Hold him for ransom and have the fangirls and the elves bid for him? And keep the kid in the meantime, allowing him to run loose as he pleases, causing many comic mishaps eventually leading to the breakdown of Tim, which makes us return him safe and sound to the elves, essentially ending this chapter of Legolas' life?"

There was a stunned silence. After a minute, Tim cleared his throat and spoke up.

"Um, no. No, Goris, we're not going to do that." Balian just stared at Goris and shook his head.

"Goris, you are a walking plot device." Goris beamed. "It wasn't a compliment, lack-beard."

Tim interrupted before the situation could turn ugly. (because no one wants to see dwarves mud wrestle.)

"Now, now, there's no call to be insulting Goris' beard! Goris, you have a fine, thick beard that is full of crumbs and tangles and stuff. Balian, you are much smarter than Goris. Is everyone satisfied?" There were grudging nods of assent. "Now, if I may continue…?" More grudging nods of assent.

"Right," continued Tim. "We're taking the kid to Imladris and dropping him off after giving him a quart of sugar water, then scampering to a safe distance and telling Elrond, that great Elven prat, that we'll take the sugar-high kid off his hands if he surrenders mining rights to his hills."

There was much thoughtful nodding. Suddenly, Balian stood up.

"I have a better idea, Tim." he proclaimed. Tim did not look happy.

"What, praytell, is your idea, Balian?" Tim growled.

"I think," said Balian, edging to his left, "that we should do something about Goris, because he's not a dwarf." Goris stood.

"You're right, actually." Goris pulled off his costume and stepped out to reveal he was…not a dawrf! GASP! "I'm not a dwarf. I'm a fanboy. My name is Traion."

The dwarves all hid behind various items of furniture, such as there was in the covered wagon.

"Er…what do you want?" quavered Tim from behind the chamber pot.

"Nothing, really. I'm just going to take Legolas and exchange him for some hot elves from Mirkwood."

The dwarves looked scandalized.

"But this is a non-slash fan fiction! There's no slash warning! People are going to flame us about this!" argued Balian nervously. Traion gave him a strange look.

"I know this is a non-slash fan fiction. When I said elves, I mean the ones about to be sacrificed to the fangirls. Stupid fangirls. If I can save the elves, I get a date with Legolas' eldest sister! Thranduil said so." Traion stared off into the distance with a dreamy look on his face.

"AH. I see." The dwarves relaxed a little.

Traion seemed to snap out of his bemused state and turned back to face the dwarves.

"Anywho, I'll take Legolas and be off." With a jaunty wave, Traion hopped out of the cart, scooped up Legolas, who was playing with the battle axes in the next cart over, and took off towards Mirkwood with the prince safely in a baby carrier.

Oh, what a foolish fanboy Traion was…tune in next time to see what happens, folks! If people are still reading this thing, then I'll update. If not, then I got a little more practice with my typing skills and appeased my shoulder angel.


End file.
